Hollow
by DarkToLight
Summary: I had heard it said before that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. What nonsense. -Ulquiorra POV- -Manga spoilers- -UlquiHime, UlquiorraxOrihime... As much as it can be- -M for Grimmjow swearing-
1. La primera parte

**

* * *

**

Written because I hate Tite Kubo sometimes.

Summary: "I had often heard people say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. What nonsense."

Warnings first: SPOILERSPOILERSPOILERS for the manga UP TO chapter 352, which is, at time of writing, the current chapter. ARGH WHY KUBO? WHY GIVE ME HOPE AND THEN... Grr.

Is it a deathfic? Well, in my mind, no. But, make of it what you will. If you want to bash me for it, then no, it is not a deathfic. But if that's the ending you like the best, then it is. Interperet it your own way.

It's slightly AU... Very, very slightly.

Pairings: UlquiHime (UlquiorraxOrihime), and some one-sided light IchiHime (IchigoxOrihime) if you squint REALLY REALLY HARD. Since I actually hate IchiHime despite it being partway-canon, it's very light indeed. (I just don't think it works. Ichigo only sees her as a friend.)

Style: This is Ulquiorra-centric and in first person. I _did_ use the manga for guidance (although I was trying to avoid spoiling myself as much as possible and skipped through it, so I may have missed the odd scene here and there. I only want to know about Ulquiorra).  
I was writing in a different style to normal in this fic because I was trying to capture the way Ulquiorra thinks. It was... Quite hard, and I may not have succeeded totally, I'm sorry...  
If you think Ulquiorra is OOC, well. Perhaps he changes as the story progresses. But do point it out if you see it, especially at the beginning. When I write stories this long, I occasionally slip, and the only person who's read this is a friend of mine who doesn't read Bleach, and is only an Ulquiorra convert because I ranted at him about it for half an hour solid (is that an achievement, to convert someone to loving a charrie in a series they've never seen? Or is that just... Worryingly obsessed? Oo)

Total Word Count: 16,784 words. That's why it's split into two even though it's a oneshot. There's a limit to how much people can read at once, I think. I'm trying to keep the scrollbar reasonable...

**Disclaimer_:_** I do not own BLEACH. It belongs to Tite Kubo. Believe me, if I _did_ own Bleach, I would not be losing hair over the possible fate of my most-favourite character in the series. Please, Kubo, _please_ don't kill him. Pleasepleaseplease. I will do _anything_. I mean this. _Anything_.

**_

* * *

_**

**_[Hollow]_**

I remember, once, when I was a new Hollow, they told me that I needed to die.

There was no reasoning in it, really. All they said was that I needed to die. So I asked them why.

They seemed surprised. Because I was a Hollow, they said, that was reason enough. So I asked them why they did not need to die, if I did. They told my I did evil, I consumed souls. I told them that they killed Hollows; did that not make them evil? Why I, and not they?

I was young, and foolish, but not as much as those two Soul Reapers, who did not live to grow much older.

I despised them. They who condemned me because I was what I was. They who hunted me for trying to stay alive. They who blamed me for their own failing, for not reaching me and sending me on before the other Hollows caught _me_. I abhorred them. Those who hunted me because I did not die. I loathed them. They who told me that I could not love, because I did not have a heart, so I was not worth saving.

I detested them. Hated them. Despised, loathed, abhorred, resented, cursed them. They were anathema.

And yet, I would turn to one of them to save me.

* * *

The way I clawed my way up to become a Vasto Lorde was almost pitiful. Once I knew I could, I fell upon the other Hollows with a single, bloody-minded determination. They were the reason I was so hated. They had made me what I was. So I carved a swathe through Hueco Mundo, tearing apart Hollow-Souls and subsuming them. I would do anything. Anything to be away from the Soul Reapers who hunted me. Anything to be safe and still who I was.

So I _became_ power. I _became_ fear. I _became _a Vasto Lorde.

I _remained_ Ulquiorra.

* * *

I remember the first taste of Soul Reaper in Hueco Mundo. I remember the flare of anger I felt flash through me, how dare they, how _dare_ they cross over to our own realm to kill us? I was all and ready to kill him, fire and flame and _cero_, but he stopped my claws with a finger and did not draw his zanpaku-to. A finger. That was all it took. I quietened my rage in the face of this new and unusual threat – I was so angry, then. So bestial. Such an animal.

He offered me power. He could give me everything, he said. A proper name, a true face again, a sword, and _vengeance_. I responded that I had the first, the second and third were irrelevant and I would give him my life and servitude for a chance at the fourth.

It was exactly what he wanted.

* * *

He took me to a palace, Las Noches. It was in a part of Hueco Mundo I had never visited, a part where the other Hollows did not know of the raging beast I had been. A place where they did not fear me – for the endless, dark desert was large indeed.

He showed me a device he had, the _Hogyoku_. With it, he said, he could make me powerful. He could tear off all of my mask and leave me unharmed. It would give me a zanpaku-to. But, most importantly of all, it would make me strong and sane combined.

I needed no time to think.

* * *

Unharmed, as it turned out, was perhaps too strong a word for it. I was _left_ intact, but the pain, oh, the pain. I was left with a good part of my mask on the left side of my face. I still had my Hollow hole – in my heart, of course, because I had no heart. I was not worthy of the same sort of life as those who did.

I was left for a while to experiment with my newfound powers, once I had told Lord Aizen my name. Ulquiorra, I said, and he had chuckled and called it _strangely fitting_. I looked at the sword in my hand, the sword that had been the symbol of my hatred, my loathing, and resolved that I would not become an animal again. I would be calm, emotionless. I would face everything as it came and I would not back down. No longer would I _abhor, loathe, detest_. There was no need. They were all simply… _Trash_ to me. Pathetic in the face of my power.

* * *

I became Espada cuatro – four. I was one of the more perfect Arrancar, Lord Aizen said. I did not push myself and had traded power for another sort, so I was not the strongest, but I had the tactical advantage, and perhaps another. I did not wish to reveal it as yet. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, and those that you do not know furthest away of all. I had my secrets. I suspected most of us did – above number 9, that is. The rest were either dumb fools or too shallow and desperate for power. Yammi was one of the former. Luppi was one of the latter. Neither were my friends, although Yammi always accompanied me and could be classed as an acquaintance. Occasionally his health concerned me – when he was foolish or weak enough to be hurt. But were he to die, I would not cry. Were they all to die, I would not mourn. They meant nothing to me, not even Lord Aizen.

…They were all _trash_.

* * *

Lord Aizen seemed to know that I gave my strength to he who made me simply because I remained uncontested in that regard. Were I to be defeated by the once-_hated_ Soul Reapers, I would die or be theirs. That was the way my allegiance worked. And I knew Soul Reapers – Soul Reapers all in black, with black in their _hearts_, the hearts that supposedly made them so superior. I knew that, were I to be defeated, I would _die_. I would never be theirs. They would never sully their hands with me or my kind. Rather I be left to rot, and spit on my filthy hollow corpse.

So I was Lord Aizen's until death.

* * *

On occasion, I travelled to the human world on Lord Aizen's request. The human world was full of weaklings, garbage. I never bothered to raise my blade to them. That was the difference between myself and all the other fools – they always had to fight, no matter what. They did not seem to realise that when one picked on weaklings, the stronger, true fighters emerged to defend them. The humans were trash. Even the Soul Reaper was – at that point in time – trash. Only when Yammy provoked them did a Captain come out, and even then I did not participate, except to stop Yammy killing himself on their swords. Instead, I observed. Observation was the key to victory. Know thine enemy, how he moves and fights. Only by watching, analysing, and testing the waters can one be victorious against a strong foe. Even as a full Hollow I had watched. Perhaps that was why my eyes could see _and_ show. Perhaps that was why the other Arrancar hadn't realised that my eyes regenerated much faster than theirs would, and that the rate of regeneration was linear across the whole body.

Perhaps they were all fools.

* * *

I was set to capture the girl I had seen during my trip. She was fearful, but stood as if to counter her fear. She was weak on the outside, but within her _heart_ lay tremendous strength. She believed in her friends, but had trouble believing in herself.

She was easy to catch. The Soul Reapers were all uneducated fools, leading her as good as unprotected through the vulnerable passage. I destroyed them – a necessary waste – and took her back with me to Las Noches. I presumed Lord Aizen would have immediate use for her.

I was incorrect.

Lord Aizen locked her in a room. His Lieutenant, Gin, came to see me and informed me that I was to look after her. This I could easily accomplish, but I did wonder that I was not being used in other ways. They knew that I did not fight unless absolutely necessary, but was I that unimportant to them?

* * *

I had decided by then to shrug off foolish human metaphors and say that her strength was in her soul. How could you truly say that something lay in someone's heart when we Arrancar felt such things, too? Although the lower Hollows were capable only of base, simplistic emotions, we were, to all intents and purposes, people on a level with _them_. Much higher a level in _some_ cases. If you were to have a conversation with myself, or Stark, or even Grimmjow, then have a conversation with a Soul Reaper, some people would rate the Soul Reaper the less intelligent, the less _human_. Somehow, it all came back to the humans. The weak little humans, who did nothing but live for a short while, then die. Only when they died were they worth anything, it seemed, yet everything we did was centred around them.

This I still had trouble understanding.

* * *

"Miss Inoue," I greeted, standing in the doorway. "You are looking well." She spun around, startled and concerned by my sudden greeting.

"H-how long have you been there?!" She demanded. I repressed a sigh at her antics.

"A few moments," I responded calmly enough. "You must try not to get worked up over such little things." I walked into the room, her eyes watching me the whole way. Always she tried to incite more than the cold in me, although I doubt she ever did it on purpose, especially in those early days.

"Why are you here?" She demanded. I ran my eyes over her, appraising nothing more than the clothing, unlike what most would likely have looked at her for.

"It suits you," I remarked. "You are one of us now." I sighed softly, barely noticeably. "I am here because I have something to tell you." I paced to the window, hands in my pockets. She didn't watch me. "Your allies have invaded Hueco Mundo," I continued, turning back to pace the other way. "They have been here for a few hours and are making progress." I heard her gasp, and she turned to look at me.

"Why?" She whispered. Her eyes held fear, hope, despair, all manner of conflicting emotions. I watched this. Perhaps it was in the eyes that these emotions should show themselves, not in the heart. Unusual. Controversial. But reasonable. After all, I was not certain what defined an Arrancar's soul, if we possessed such things. But the eyes… Almost all creatures had eyes, save for Aaroniero, and he was something of an exception on many terms.

"Why?" I repeated, stopping and turning to face her. Her eyes held mine – there was power in the eyes of many people. "I would not think I should need to tell you." Still she held my gaze, waiting and defiant. "They have come to rescue you," I finished, watching for her reaction, but she turned away from me so I could not see the look in her eyes. I shrugged, and turned away.

"…They came… For me…" She whispered. Irritation flickered in my eyes, if only for a second.

"It should mean nothing to you," I informed her coldly. "You are already ours." I heard her turn, but remained stood where I was.

"…Yes, Sir," she responded softly. I felt something inside me change, and turned. I had been given orders, and I would carry them out to the letter.

"Tell me," I ordered. "Tell me why you exist."

"To serve Lord Aizen, and his will," she replied, and our eyes met.

When she _did_ incite more than the cold in me, she never meant it.

That is what I told myself.

* * *

_She has broken_, I realised as I walked away. _But still dismay showed in her eyes. Does she still feel for the Kurosaki boy? She could not kiss him when she said goodbye to him._ I was musing, I realised that at the time, but it made me feel better, all the same. That strange feeling that she incited within me was impossible to place, and I was distracting myself from it by thinking of other things. _She does not just say these things to satisfy me. She means them, at least in part. Perhaps, then…_

"Yo, Ulqui," a voice greeted. I paused.

"Nnoitra," I greeted; my voice even. I did not bother to turn, although perhaps it would have been polite. It matters little. He is dead now.

"Been to see your little Princess?" He mocked. I paid little attention to this. He and I both knew that it was my duty to care for her. His comments were nought but the pointless posturing of a misogynist. "How have you been getting around to _training_ her?" He continued. I turned at this. Anger, the kind of old anger I had felt as a full Hollow, had flared in me for barely a second. I beat it down, meeting him instead with my cool, steady gaze.

"…Degenerate scum," I informed him coldly. Nnoitra was a waste of my breath.

Nnoitra was trash.

* * *

I spent a little time thinking on my brief meeting with Orihime. My curiosity had been piqued – she interested me. Her abilities were unique, and to find them in a human was so… Strange, so impossible. She seemed to have adapted fine to the world of Hueco Mundo despite a less-than-perfect transfer. She was a prisoner and a slave, but a comrade, and she looked me in the eye with the arrogance of someone who thought me their equal, or at least someone who would not give in to my superior strength. Why? I did not know. I am not sure I ever will. No, indeed I never shall.

I found a lower-rank Arrancar, of the type who had stitched Yammy's arm back on, although clearly not the same one. I ordered her to prepare some food, food fit for a human. She seemed surprised, but, to her credit, simply bowed her head and did as asked without even a questioning look. Perhaps she was afraid of me. It would make perfect sense. I was Espada cuatro, of course.

* * *

I knocked on the door before entering this time, remembering her startled and offended reaction.

"I'm coming in," I called through the door. No response, but she had been warned, so I opened the door and entered. She was stood looking out of the only window in the room, the cold, white moonlight hitting her and making her hair shine like a golden aurora. Mentally, I rebuked myself for such foolish similes. What did it matter how she looked? She was there to be used as Lord Aizen saw fit, was she not? She was a prisoner, was she not?

The look on her face was of sadness, a sadness so acute it brought those strange feelings in me to the surface once more. I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked over to her.

"You've noticed," I remarked. "That fool Nnoitra acted outside of his jurisdiction. He was ordered to wait, but-"

"Chad's not dead," she told me, cutting across me recounting of events. I stopped. She already had the nerve to challenge my authority, to speak when not given permission? She was defiant indeed. Still, I did not rebuke her for it, simply looked to the side and considered things. "He's not dead!" She repeated, a hint of desperation in her voice. I turned my eyes to her, but not myself. There were no tears, but perhaps she was holding them back. Still, it was irrelevant, and I wanted no more to do with the conversation. I turned away and walked to the door.

"You may enter," I told the Arrancar I had found earlier. She pushed the food into the room, bowed, and left as hurriedly as was polite. That was the correct way for Orihime to act, but she did not. I did not understand it. She was human. She was weak by definition… By definition? Definition was what made all Hollows evil. I turned back to her, resolving to think upon the matter later. "Eat," I told her. She met my eyes once more.

"…I'm not hungry," she replied eventually. I sighed – a short, sharp noise of irritation.

"You must eat," I responded. "Otherwise you will wither and die." She looked at me still, and I searched for another reason. "It is your duty to Lord Aizen to preserve your life," I settled on. Still she was silent, and made no move towards the food. This irritated me somewhat, and I frowned at her. "You _will_ eat," I told her. "Even if I must force it down your throat, or give it to you intravenously. You will not die here." In her eyes, her surprise showed, but she did not let it win over her.

"…He's not dead," was her only answer. I sighed once more. She was so irritatingly persistent, so attached, so foolishly devoted to those she had left behind. She was our ally now. They did not matter.

"It matters not whether he is dead or alive," I informed her, walking over, hands still in my pockets. "Would you like me to tell you 'don't worry, I'm sure he's alive'? Such words would be pointless." She did not respond. "I am not here to comfort you," I told her, somewhat coldly, but something in her eyes made me leave that line of argument. She stirred up a strange, unfamiliar and unwanted feeling in me – guilt, perhaps; although by rights I had nothing to feel guilty for. I started to pace back and forth along an invisible line, always the same distance from her and her intense, soulful gaze. "You are so focused on life and death," I continued. "It is foolish. Sooner or later, they will all be killed. If that is one step closer, it matters not." I waved one hand to the side to emphasise this. "This should have been obvious to them," I continued, and she looked at me, her eyes saddened.

"…Stop it," she requested softly. I almost did. But a part of me was riled at her strange feelings, feelings she needed to be rid of, as we were, so I continued on with my argument.

"If they came here without knowing our strength, all the fault is theirs," I told her. "Laugh them off as fools, can you not do that? If our positions were reversed, and my friends had come for me and found themselves in this situation, I would not cry for them. I would be infuriated by their stupidity." I saw something in her eyes snap. She clenched her fists. Quickly, at a not-quite-run, she closed the distance between us and brought her hand around to meet my face. The noise echoed in the empty room, the force of it catching me by surprise and forcing my head to the side. It hurt. None of the Arrancar in Hueco Mundo had made me hurt before, so that made this small, frail human the first one to cause me any sort of pain since my making. I turned my eyes, but did not move my head, once more. She was crying. That surprised me. Why cry? She had not cried when she felt her friend's reiatsu fade. She had not cried when I had called them fools. She had not cried when she was taken and forced to say goodbye. So why, why did she cry when she raised her hand to me in anger? I turned properly. If she had been any other Arrancar I would have retaliated, or at least reported them to Lord Aizen for their insolence. But standing there, watching her tears, her sorrow, and her determination, I could not even rebuke her. Words simply failed me. The idea of hurting her was alien to me. An act of retribution was worthless. Striking me had been punishment in itself. She expected it, though, for me to return it, I could see it in her eyes.

Instead, I turned sharply on the spot and walked to leave.

"I will return in one hour," I told her, pausing and turning to look at her. "If you have not eaten by then, I shall bind you and force you to eat. I shall not allow you to die. You can rely upon that, at least." I hesitated in the doorway. "And if you focus harder, you will find that he is in fact not dead, but the fact is pointless to you besides." I turned once more and shut the door sharply, before raising a hand to my stinging face and rubbing it slightly. Regeneration would not ease the pain, although it would leave me unmarked. How foolish. How stupid. How ridiculous. How _human_. What was she doing to me? I did not understand. I still don't.

I heard her sobs through the closed door and lowered my hand, the pain forgotten. I lingered by the door, debating whether to go in, but in the end dismissed it as foolish. As I had said, I was not there to comfort her.

But some part of me wanted to ease her pain regardless.

* * *

I returned on the hour as I had promised. She was expecting me this time, and had ruthlessly reigned in her emotions, showing none of the sorrow she had shown before. The food was, unexpectedly, gone.

"…Thank you," she whispered to me. This caught me off-guard; it was the last thing I had expected her to say.

"For what?" I inquired, moving over to check that she had in fact eaten, and was not simply hiding the food to fool me.

"For… For telling me… About… About Chad," she elaborated, her hands clasped together. "I-I can still feel him. He's… Still alive. They all are." I inclined my head.

"For now, they are," I agreed. "Because, currently, they do not pose a threat. You have eaten. That is good. You must preserve your strength."

"Why… Do you care?" She asked me suddenly. I frowned. She was not supposed to question me. This was entirely out of order. I turned to her.

"I do not care," I responded bluntly enough. The look in her eyes brought up that feeling once more – I had correctly identified it as guilt before, although why I felt it now was a mystery to me. "I am keeping you alive because I have been ordered to do so." She shook her head.

"No," she replied. "You let me say goodbye. You tell me all the time, what is happening to them. You keep me safe from the others. You don't want me to die. You… Reassured me about Chad."

"It is my job," I repeated. "That is all." I saw her eyes go to the side of my face, where she had hit me, and she walked up.

"You aren't hurt?" She asked. I shook my head.

"You damaged very little, save perhaps my pride," I responded. "I must leave. I have things to do."

"Like?" She asked. This question was soft, as if she knew she was pushing the limits of what I would allow. Perhaps she was testing me. Wanting to see how far she could push me before I snapped. She seemed to be unaware that I never snapped.

"That is none of your concern," I told her. "If Lord Aizen calls on me, I shall be defending Las Noches from the intruders. All of your friends seem to possess a remarkable survival capability. But I will warn you, they will not hope to stand against me." Orihime seemed torn.

"I-If you fight Ichigo-" she started.

"If I fight Ichigo," I cut her off, "I will kill him if he is worth killing. I will spare him if he knows when to surrender. I will fight him if he attempts to obstruct me in my duty." For some reason, that old anger flared in me at the look in her eyes. Concern for Ichigo. She did not care what happened to me, so long as her Ichigo was safe. Why? Why did she care for him so? Why did he matter to her, and I did not? Why was he, one who was her enemy now, so dear to her? So close to her _heart_?

That was it. He had a heart. That made him superior to me in her eyes. Of course.

"…Thank you," she replied softly. That made the anger flare up again.

"Do not thank me," I told her curtly. "I am only doing my job." I turned and walked away, signalling for someone to take the now-empty tray of food away, angry and roiling inside and not really knowing why.

* * *

I sat down and thought for a while. Mostly thinking on Orihime, and why she was the way she was.

It was clear to me after a while that my initial thoughts had been made with a clouded mind. Such reasoning had been foolish, and that I was even thinking that way troubled me. She moved me to feel more than the cold I had instilled in myself. Why was that?

She loved Ichigo. Her feelings for him were so strong they burned with a vicious fire. She believed in him with everything she had. Her life, her soul, her power, everything, she was putting into his hands. She truly thought that he would rescue her, that he would fight his way through fire, through fog, through anything to carry her safely home.

She also harboured some sort of feeling for me, although whether in a negative or a positive light, it was hard to say. She trusted me, at least. She believed that if I promised to spare Ichigo, I would. She also thought that I would do it if she asked, like a friend would. Perhaps I would, but it was still foolish to ask it of me, her captor. A phrase I had not used since my living life came to mind – Stockholm Syndrome. Perhaps that was it. But no, she was far too strong for that. She held to her own beliefs. She had healed Grimmjow out of gratitude, not because she belonged to us. It was strange to me. It was likely strange to the others, as well.

Time/space regression. Did that mean she could bring back the dead? If she could return an arm, could she return a corpse? I doubted it. Nothing could bring back the dead once they had passed on, could it? Once they had been reborn. But still, her power was so unusual, so strange. I wanted to learn more about it. About her.

I also wanted to test Ichigo. I wanted to know if he was worthy of her love, her devotion. If his strength could match her determination. If he loved her the way she loved him.

* * *

I walked the short way down to the entranceway, and was surprised to find Gin sat at the corridor controls. That meant they had got further than I had anticipated.

"Who is it?" I asked. "Have they got far?" Gin turned, apparently surprised, then laughed when he saw that it was me.

"Now ain't this rare!" He remarked. "You comin' an' chattin' with me? This mean you don' hate me?"

"Never," I replied, as was expected, my eyes closed and head bowed respectfully. He just laughed at my display of obedience, as though he could care less either way. I opened my eyes to see him running his fingers over the screen.

Changing things?

"Well, if that's so, maybe you should come an' talk to me some more," he suggested, twisting around in his chair to look at me, that smile fixed in place on his face still. I was not the only one amongst us that wore a mask, it seemed. "Been ever so lonely since Luppi went an' died on me." I ignored him, instead looking at the screen beneath his fingers.

"…Is that…?" I started, slightly surprised despite myself. He grinned.

"Yep," he replied. "'S alright. You ever seen these before?"

"…The corridor controls… Are you…?" I asked, seeing him change them before my eyes, making the corridors easier to navigate. That was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

"Oh, no, I wouln' do owt mean like that!" He replied, deliberately misinterpreting my words. My eyes narrowed, if only slightly. "'Sides, I hate sad stories," he added, turning to look at me once more. My eyes flicked down to the new configuration, memorising it.

"…I see," I responded levelly. "So the intruders… Are here?" I pointed to a point on the map, and his grin widened slightly.

"Ichigo and the kid Hollow that's been followin' him around are," he replied. "Heading for… Oh, around here, I guess." His hand waved in the direction of Orihime's cell almost absently. This time, the narrowing of my eyes was noticeable, and I think it was what made him laugh. "Tell ya what, Ulqui, since you're so het up about it, you can do Lord Aizen a favour," he suggested. I looked at him levelly. "You can go and turn the boy back the other way, how about that?" He offered. That was exactly what I wanted, and he knew it. Was I his, as much as I was Aizen's? I could not read his face at all. I did not know what he truly wanted. It confused me.

My only consolation, as I turned and walked off with a noise of confirmation, was that very few understood me, either.

* * *

As soon as I neared the top of the stairs, I felt him. His reiatsu was wild and, disappointingly, slightly weary. He was tired, perhaps he had been fighting. No matter. He was weak now. Pathetic. Trash. That frustrated me somewhat. He was _nothing_, and Orihime put her faith in him? He was _pathetic_, and Orihime valued his life over mine? Ridiculous. _Ridiculous._

The almost painful flash of Aaroniero's last moments hit me just before I reached the stairs. I paused to take them in… So, the Kuchiki girl was dead? That would hit Orihime hard. The Kuchiki girl had been one of the people she had considered using her goodbye on. I thought that they were good friends.

Oh well.

I paused at the top of the stairs, and his head instantly snapped up to look at mine. I saw the recognition flash in his eyes, and the quickly repressed fear. Fear. Good.

I started to walk down the stairs.

"Y-you…" He stammered. "…Ulquiorra! You're Ulquiorra!"

"You remember my name?" I remarked, still pacing down the stairs at my normal pace. "Strange, since I don't remember telling you it." I made a slight noise of amusement. "No matter." I placed one foot upon the floor. "Rukia Kuchiki is dead." The look in his eyes was identical to Orihime's after she felt Sado fade. Fear and disbelief.

"…Bullshit," he replied eventually. "You're not even fighting her, how the hell can you know?" I sighed. They truly knew nothing. They were pathetic, utter garbage. How did they think they could win?

"The Ninth Espada is dead," I told him. "One of his abilities and duties is to convey information about those he is fighting – to all of his allies at once." Including Orihime. "Both he and Rukia Kuchiki were impaled upon a spear, and her body had multiple lacerations. She is dead." Despite the certainty in my voice, I was not, in all truth, totally certain of the fact. I had survived this long by being conservative, and the human boy had survived despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. She could well be alive. But it would not do Ichigo any good to know this.

I saw the look in his eyes falter. He had felt her reiatsu drop to almost minimal proportions at the same time as I had felt the Ninth Espada die, and he had relayed it to us. He did not want to believe, he was desperately trying to prove wrong all the empirical evidence with belief. How foolish.

I would believe that Rukia Kuchiki was dead when I saw her cold corpse in front of me, and nothing else. But what would Orihime think?

Ichigo started to walk away. I almost couldn't believe it. I had him, here, in front of me, he was _so close_ to Orihime, and he was walking _away_ from her?

"Where are you going?" I demanded icily.

"To save Rukia," he replied, without turning. Anger flashed through me.

"I told you she is dead," I told him levelly.

"I don't believe you," he returned. The boy was frustrating beyond belief.

"So you are leaving without killing me first?" I asked, although the idea of him killing me was laughable. "How pathetic."

"I have no reason to fight you," he replied. "You're an enemy, but you haven't hurt any of my friends. So why should I kill you?" So, he thought with mercy. How strange. Still, I was here to fight him – to 'turn him around', Gin had said, which technically I had done, but I _wanted_ to fight him, to test him, despite the fact that doing so was somewhat foolish and unnecessary. I wanted to know if he was worthy of her.

"I see," I murmured, and he paused to look at me. "What if I told you that I was the one who brought Orihime Inoue to Hueco Mundo?" I watched his expression change. His face twisted into blind anger. "She is close by. Will you abandon her here?" I continued.

He was on me in a flash – his grasp of _Shunpo_ was rather impressive. I blocked his sword with my hand.

"So she didn't come of her own will," he growled. This surprised me. Why come to rescue someone if were not completely sure they weren't a traitor?

"So even her friends had some doubt in their _hearts_," I remarked. "How pathetic."

"It's your fault!" He exclaimed. "Your fault she was branded a traitor!" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Of course," I replied. "Otherwise we would have made a mistake." His growl was animalistic, Hollow-like, and he cursed me. Loudly.

_Perfect._

"So, have you found… A reason to fight me?" I asked, almost uncaring. He lowered his sword and took two paces to the rear. I remained where I was.

"Nel, get a little further back," he remarked to the small Hollow-girl cowering on the floor. My eyes examined her. No, she was not a Hollow… She was an Arrancar. How strange. "It doesn't look like he's gonna let me through after all." She wailed and scampered behind a pillar. I watched all of this with disinterest. His power was in no way comparable to my own, even in this angry, incited state. "But I'm in a hurry, so we'll have to go all out," he continued to me. I watched him impassively. _Prove you are worthy of her love,_ I thought. _Prove you deserve the hero's mantle you have been given._ He activated his Bankai, and I followed his path upwards with my eyes.

"…Oh. Bankai," I remarked, not at all impressed. He covered his face with one hand, and when he removed it, the mask was a Hollow's; the eyes were an animal's. This surprised me somewhat, but I wasn't in any way afraid of it. He was so overconfident, so sure of this being the path to victory.

Seething with energy, he brought his sword down hard, and I blocked it with my arm. He didn't even pierce my comparatively-weak Hierro. He didn't have the time to look surprised, however, as I flung my arm out and sent him crashing backwards through the pillars.

Was this his full power? Was this really all he was capable of? Did he seriously intend to try and rescue Orihime with _this_? I set off at _sonido_-speed towards him, pondering his new change and apparent power. Hs reiatsu moved like a Hollow's, similar to the way mine had been. This meant something, and I resolved to think more on it later.

"It's over," he growled. "Getsuga Tenshou." He flung it out at me, and that surprised me somewhat. That was ridiculous. He thought such an attack could hurt me? Was he a total fool? I blocked his pathetic attempt at ending the fight with one hand, then swept it away. The second crest was larger, and hit my outstretched hands with full force. I sighed softly.

"How ridiculous," I murmured, and the energy exploded around my outstretched hands. I heard the Arrancar-girl fret over him. Nel. Could it be? Neliel Tu?

His response was laughable. He thought he had won! He honestly thought that that attack would have been enough to stop me!

"Well, well," I remarked, watching his face as the mist cleared. Half of my sleeves had been annihilated, and I had had to regenerate a finger, but apart from that, I was unharmed. His expression was one of pure, utter shock, mingled with terror, and perhaps despair. I would like to think that I had incited despair in him. "Was that… All of your power, just now?" I asked, almost absently. "To think that I could not stop it, even with both hands…?" I looked at said hands, fully intact as they were, and brushed a little debris off my shoulder with one. The look in his eyes spoke louder than words. "…It would appear so," I realised. "How… Unfortunate." I charged a _cero_, wondering why he was worth Orihime's love, her devotion, her protection. Why him and not I? _Why not me?!_

"_Cero_!" I shouted, perhaps with a little more anger than normal, and the power exploded outwards from me. I exulted in it, although it was uncharacteristic of me. _Go, Ichigo, turn tail and flee, for you are nothing in the face of my power._ Nothing at all.

He was thrown out of the building by the force of the blast, the Arrancar-girl unconscious in his arms. I used _sonido_, and was caught up with him before he could even discern that. One swing of my sword sent him into… _Through_ the wall of another building. I used _sonido_ again and jumped up, walking through the wreckage absently.

"You used that mask again, to defend against my _cero_," I remarked. "But, it shattered in an instant. Next time, you will not be able to use it." He looked at me, his weakness showing in his bloody, torn face, but rebellion in his eyes. "Surrender," I offered. For Orihime. Don't kill him, she had begged. Well, I would not. I would let him go.

This time.

He rammed his sword into my chest. I looked down at it impassively. What a completely foolish move.

"Nobody's surrendering," he spat. "You're number one, right? I take you down, I've got this." I almost laughed at his naivety. Me? Number one? Did he think I was that _stupid_? Did he _really_ think I would _want_ to be number one? Had he seen so little of our power that he thought that I, fighting at barely a third of my full strength, was _number one?_

Ridiculous.

"I see," I murmured. "That's unfortunate." I closed my hand around the sword, the blade no bother to me whatsoever. The look in his eyes was of fear, true fear.

I pulled the blade down. It did not once cut my skin. The top half of my uniform was torn into two, letting him see my rank, emblazoned upon my chest like something to be proud of. Four.

"Y-you're fourth?!" He exclaimed. Once more, his ignorance was laughable.

"Yes," I responded. "Espada cuatro, Ulquiorra Schiffer. My power, as it stands, is ranked fourth amongst us." _The power they have seen is ranked fourth._ None of them had seen what else I could do, and as far as I was aware I was the only one who could do it – release my second state. To let them know everything would be foolish indeed.

I slammed my hand into his chest, where his _heart_ should be. Where I had nothing but a hole. That place that set us apart. "Ichigo Kurosaki, you have no hope of defeating me," I informed him bluntly. "Even if somehow you could, there are three others stronger than I." His face showed shock at defeat. "Even if you rise from the ashes a thousand times, you stand no chance." I pulled my hand out in one swift movement, and he fell to the floor. "It seems I overestimated you," I continued. "Orihime puts her faith in you. She believes you can save her. But your progress has failed to meet my expectations." He looked up at me weakly.

"Ori… Hime…" He choked out. I suppressed the irritation.

"You stop here," I told him. "Crawl away, if you can move." I looked down at him scornfully. "Or die, if you do not even have that resolve." The flash of anger in his eyes confirmed to me that he would live, even if it were just to spite me. Good. Orihime would be pleased. "You express anger at what I have done," I remarked. "I acted on orders." He spat at me. "I took her, I cared for her, I feed her, I _broke_ her for Lord Aizen." I knelt down by him, and his eyes were like daggers. "If you will hate me for that, hate _her_ for willingly, after a fashion, being Aizen's pawn. For healing Grimmjow." He noted that. My momentary slip. _Just Aizen_. "If she believes in you, she stands no chance," I told him bluntly. "If she thinks you will rescue her, she is dead wrong. If she thinks you are worthy of her devotion, of her love, she is _mistaken_." He did not react to this, so I stood up. "I will continue to care for her because that is what I have been ordered to do," I told him. "She will not be hurt. But do not let that make you dally. If you truly think you have a hope of defeating us… Strike us down, Soul Reaper. Kill those who you condemn purely because we were made this way."

I turned and walked away.

* * *

I walked back to Orihime's cell, intending to tell her of the situation, let her know that Ichigo was still clinging to life if it pleased her. Perhaps some reassurance on the Kuchiki situation would be required. I was certain that the other Soul Reapers would not abandon the girl to her fate, but Orihime would have nothing to confirm…

Orihime was not there. Instead, two Arrancar girls, blood streaked all about the place, and a severely cratered wall. A mixture of fear and anger ran through me at this sight.

"…Who did this?" I demanded of the girls. They looked at each other, nervously; I could see blood on their fingernails. They had hurt Orihime. They had come when I was guaranteed not to be there to hurt Orihime. How dare they do such a thing?

"G-Grimmjow…" One of them told me eventually. Well, that was reasonable. Grimmjow had a definite feud with the Kurosaki boy, he would no doubt be angry that I had "stolen" his "prey"…

"…I see," I responded levelly, turning and walking away. I would deal with that pair later. They would pay dearly for hurting Orihime.

* * *

I debated with myself as I started towards the place I had left Ichigo. Something inside me was changing. I could feel it. The old anger I had felt as a Vasto Lorde was reminding me of itself. The frustration at the situation I was feeling was abnormal indeed. And the fact that Grimmjow had taken Orihime, even if he had saved her from those pathetic Arrancar dregs, incited in me a feeling I had no name for.

I used my _sonido_, not eager to be too late and possibly even lose Orihime to that weak fool Kurosaki because of a miscalculation on Grimmjow's part. I knew that Orihime would not care that I had defeated Ichigo – in fact, she would likely hold it against me. All she cared about was his life. I had spared it, was that not enough for her? What did I need to do to replace him?

What if he was like me? If he were a hollow, or an Arrancar? Would we be more level then – assuming he and his weak power could ever be termed 'level' with my own? Would I stand to be more equal in her eyes then?

"Grimmjow," I started, making him curse and turn. "What are you doing?" Orihime looked at me with a mixture of fear, hatred, and regret on her face. Regret? That was unusual to see in her.

It seemed she had been using her power to try and heal Ichigo. The wounds I had inflicted upon him seemed to be stubbornly clinging, however – this troubled her, hence the hatred in her gaze. "I said, what are you doing?" I demanded, walking closer. I glanced at Ichigo out of the corner of my eye. Had I perhaps miscalculated the damage I had done to him? He would have to be even weaker than he looked for that to have occurred, but still…

I made a slight hand movement, apparently to emphasise my words – it made Orihime flinch – but it drew out what was left of the energy from my attack in Ichigo, returning it to my reiatsu. "Not answering?" I remarked. "Very well." My eyes went to Orihime. "Lord Aizen has placed the girl in my care. Do what you will, but please return her to my care." Grimmjow laughed and spat.

"Shut the fuck up," he told me bluntly. I regarded him levelly. He was an arrogant fool, believing himself above me in power. Ridiculous. I could defeat him without even having to release my _resurrección_.

"What did you say?" I demanded, although I kept my voice calm, level. Orihime seemed afraid, although what of, it was hard to tell. Grimmjow laughed.

"Something's up with you!" He remarked. "You're far too chatty… Ulquiorra!" He launched himself at me, and I blocked him absently with the back of my hand. Chatty? It was true that I had talked more than normal – I was well-known for my stoic silence, and it defined me – but that he had noticed it… I wondered what was happening to me. It was… Strange, unreal. "Oh, I get it!" He remarked. "You're afraid!" I made a slight amused noise. Afraid? Of him? I think not. I would never be afraid of him even if all Hueco Mundo froze over. He was brash, arrogant, easily goaded, too reliant on his strength and his attitude. He was easy to anger and quick to fight – something I had had to restrain to stop him killing himself before now. He was shallow and as readable as a book.

In short, I would never lose to him.

"Afraid to fight between Espada?" He taunted, before holding out his hands and firing a _cero_, nearly point-blank. Surprise may have shown on my face at the pure stupidity of such a move for a second, but I deflected it with a slash of my hand and jumped backwards to disperse the energy. Pathetic. He started some foolish posturing, but I used my _sonido _to draw level with him and jumped, resigned. I would not kill him – I had no need to kill him – but I would show him the difference in our strengths, at least.

He attempted to block my _cero_ with his hands, as I had done, but failed miserably. The energy exploded violently in the confined space, causing part of the top of the pillar to subside and crash to the desert below, and I landed, attempting to get my bearings in the smoke.

He grabbed me from behind and, before I could react, pushed a _caja negación _into my hollow hole. The utter depravity of such an action appalled me beyond all belief. How dare he? To use something like that against someone of a higher rank like myself, especially in such a base way…

"…Damn," I muttered, unable to stop the prison-dimension closing around me. Only once it was sealed did I slam my hands against the wall, that one action venting all of the anger that had slowly built up against me. I would not be _hate_ again. I would be calm, stoic, a rock in the storm.

I had been so close! I had done all she asked, and he had to destroy it all! Take her away – no doubt he would lose her and I would face the brunt of the punishment – heal the boy, and now humiliate me in the worst of manners. I would not be contained like this. No, I could break this prison. I glanced around at the walls, stood at one end and fired a _cero_ at the opposite wall. Nothing. Not even a crack.

How ridiculous.

I drew my sword, a calm look on my face.

"Bind, Murciélago," I murmured, feeling the rush of power around me as I changed into my _Resurrección_ form. I formed my attack in my hands. This would surely dent my prison, at least a little…

The explosion was much, much larger than from my _cero_, but there was no effect on the wall. I frowned. This was unexpected indeed. Perhaps a more hands-on approach would be needed. I charged the wall, slamming my claws into it, but I was stopped as easily as if it were Aizen I was fighting. My frown deepened. This was not what I had expected at _all_.

"_Resurrección segunda etapa_," I muttered, now irritated, my body shifting in a blinding display of light to my almost-original form. I flew back to the opposite side and launched another bolt at the wall, and the effect was exactly the same.

I sighed, and let my energies fade me back into my normal state. Brute force would get me nowhere for now, and Orihime was likely already lost to the Espada. Grimmjow was an arrogant, base fool. He had no sense at all. All the Espada had this same problem; they were so obsessed with their petty-minded feuds and their new-found power, and never combined their strengths or listened to common sense. That was why, if they were not careful, we were all going to die.

I sat down, leaning against the wall, and thought about things. About the flashes of raw emotion that kept trying to surface in me. Why was this? It was ridiculous. Hatred, guilt, regret… All of these were emotions I did not need. They would impede me in doing my duty for Aizen…

Orihime. It was Orihime that incited these emotions in me, whether she knew it or not. My hand tightened around my sword. Orihime, who put her faith in the weak Kurosaki boy. Orihime, who would leave in an instant with him if she could. Orihime, who he would walk away from to save another, likely dead, friend. Why did she love him? I did not understand.

I stood up and swiftly released my _resurrección_ again, a determined look on my face. I would break out of this prison and resume my duties. That was what I had to do. Once this was over, I would have no need to concern myself with any of this ridiculous nonsense, as either I would be dead, or she would. I ignored the biting sensation that accompanied that last thought. I did not care for her. I cared for nothing. I cared for no-one, no-one!

The lance hit the far wall with a resounding crash, and took something of my anger away with it.

* * *

  
A/N - Uploading the second part instantly-ish. No matter what happens in the manga, I don't think I'll continue this past the end of part 2. If he dies, I couldn't bear it. If he lives, it would spoil the effect of the ending.

PleasepleasePLEASE R&R. I welcome, support and appreciate any sort of constructive criticism, although just telling me you liked the fic would make my day. ^^ Flames I will laugh at. Seriously, if you hated it that much, why did you continue reading? I don't understand flamers. I understand them about as much as Ulquiorra understands Orihime. Go figure.


	2. La segunda parte

**Part 2**

Just as a side note - does anyone else despise the way Orihime has no spine whatsoever? She has _Godlike _powers and is too much of a wimp to use them. It seriously gets on my nerves. The damsel in distress thing can go too far, sometimes.

And does anyone else think that, if he does live, Ulquiorra should switch sides? I can see it. I mean, he did kinda save Uryu. Maybe.

NB - when Aizen says "strangely fitting" in part one, it's because Ulquiorra sounds somewhat like "El que llora," Spanish for "he who cries," and it relates to the tear-streak lines on his skin.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own. Kubo owns. WHY KUBO WHY? WHY TORMENT ME? *cries in a corner* I think I am mentally disturbed.

* * *

By the time I broke through the prison, Orihime had escaped and been re-captured. How truly pathetic of Ichigo, to have her and then let her go. More proof that he did not deserve her love.

"It was Grimmjow, you say?" Aizen asked me, amused. I nodded, once.

"I shall clear up any damage caused by his foolery, Lord Aizen," I promised. "He was using her to heal the Kurosaki boy, so he could have a rematch on equal terms." Aizen smirked.

"How pathetic," he remarked. "Very well, go and deal with the girl. I have preparations to make for our attack. I will require you in a few hours." I inclined my head and bowed slightly, then left to go and see Orihime.

* * *

"…Ulquiorra…" She whispered as I walked in, tired and afraid.

"…So," I started. "It would seem they are all still alive." She looked away.

"Yes," she whispered. "They have to survive." I walked over and caught her chin with one hand, making her look at me in shock.

"You are not hurt?" I remarked. "No permanent damage? No injuries?"

"N-no," she stammered, flushing a strange red colour. I released her.

"Good," I responded. "For as long as Lord Aizen has use for you, you must remain fit for service." She looked at me, a strange look in her eyes.

"Is that why you do these things?" She asked. "Because Aizen tells you to?"

"Of course," I responded, as though it were obvious. Which it was. "My life is Lord Aizen's, until I am defeated."

"Killed?" She asked. I shook my head.

"Defeated," I repeated. Did she appreciate the difference? She nodded, so I presumed she must have done.

"So…" She murmured. "If… If one of my friends… Defeated you… You would join us?" I gave her a strange look.

"If I were defeated by one of your friends, they would kill me," I reminded her. "But it is irrelevant, since none of them have the strength to do so." She looked away.

"I know… It is foolish," she murmured. "But… Thank you… For sparing Ichigo… When you could have killed him." I blinked. Always, she gave out these thanks that held seemingly no meaning.

"I had no reason to kill him," I responded levelly. "Why should I do so if it is a pointless death?" She met my eyes, and again I was held by the emotion that showed in them.

"Ichigo… Is my friend," she mumbled. "If he died… If any of them died, I… I…" She held back tears. "I thought you had come back, when… When those two came. And then Grimmjow… And I… I was so confused!" She seemed to be fighting back tears. "I felt safe… When you were here… But they… They…" She shook her head, as if to clear it. "And I don't know why… Because you're the strongest out of all of them… But with you… I am safe."

"I have been ordered to keep you safe," I reminded her. "This I shall do. You shall not come to harm."

"Until your orders… Change?" She asked. I hesitated slightly.

"…Yes," I replied eventually. "Although I doubt I will ever have need to kill you, so I shall never harm you." The look in her eyes was terrible to watch, and I believe my composure slipped for the briefest of seconds.

"…For me?" She whispered. "Would you ever let me go?" I shook my head.

"I cannot," I responded. "If they wish for you to be free, they must fight their way through me to get to you. If they cannot defeat me, they do not deserve to have you. If you wish to be free, you must break out yourself." She laughed weakly.

"Like some horrible parody of a knight in shining armour," she whispered. I blinked. That was unexpected. Everything about her was unexpected. "I really didn't think… You… Cared…" She murmured.

"I don't," I replied curtly. She looked up at me, held my eyes; I was unable to look away.

"Don't you?" She replied, seeming afraid, tentative, nervous. I attempted to form a reply, but was unable. This threw me. Why could I not respond? A new, but equally strange, feeling was building inside me, the way _anger_ and _hate_ had before. It was… It was _guilt_ and _regret_ and _care_ and _sorrow_ and so many other things, all at once. I could not move when one of her hands brushed the side of my face. I was frozen on the spot. I was immobile. I was paralysed, by her eyes and her words. We were almost equal in height, though I was small compared to all of the others, so she barely had to move when she brought our lips together.

Feeling exploded within me, it was like I was standing within a field of _cero_, like I had detonated one of my own attacks too close, but the pain was the opposite of pain. It was like I could not feel any more pain again. All there was was _her_ and _us_ and this strange, strange feeling, something I had not felt for years, something so strong, so tangible, so much a _part_ of me I could never imagine the cold had ever been. It was like something inside of me that had been broken was suddenly, inexorably, all at once pieced back together, all in a rush, all afire.

"Ulquiorra…" She murmured. Still I was immobile. I had not moved since her eyes had first held mine. "…I'm sorry." A frown touched my face. "_Koten Zanshun_," she whispered. "I reject." The pain, the shock, the pure hurt that registered in my eyes as Tsubaki sliced through my stomach must have been tangible, as there were tears in her eyes. I fell to my knees with a slight noise of pain, although within me, I felt as though I had been struck by lightning. I was numb. I was destroyed. She had put me together and torn me apart in the space of a breath. I did not, could not, _refused_ to understand.

"…Ori… Hime…" I whispered, looking up at her, my face now almost impassive, but cracking, oh, _cracking_. She was crying.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "But I… I have to fight for myself. I have to help them. P-please, please understand. I-I… I l…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry!" She ran, and each time I heard her feet hit the rock of Las Noches, and get further and further away from me, a little more of me shattered inside.

_This was all because of Ichigo_.

* * *

I sat there with one hand over my stomach; patiently waiting out the extra time it took for my body to regenerate my internal organs. The blow was a serious one, clearly the full weight of desperation behind it, but she had not wished to kill me. If she had, I would be dead. This eased the pain that was now weighing upon my heart.

I did not know where Orihime had gone, but just as my wound healed, I heard Lord Aizen call to me. He was leaving Las Noches in my hands? I was to be left behind again? This troubled me. I was not trusted as the others were. Whether I was as valued meant little, since most of those who went with him would die, but still…

"Yes, Sir," I murmured, stepping through an improvised _garganta_ to his throne room.

_She _was there. I willed my face to remain impassive, and managed. _Cold_, I thought to myself. _You are the cold_. She spun around in shock, fear and uncertainty on her face. I met her eyes levelly, but not too closely – I would not repeat my mistake. She could not touch me. I was the cold. I would not be hurt again because she valued Ichigo over me. I would be left standing at the end. She would see that I was the one she should value. That Ichigo was nothing. He was nothing.

Aizen left, without even a word. This did not trouble me; my focus was no longer on Aizen. _Come, Ichigo Kurosaki_, I thought. _Come, and I shall show you the difference between us_. I walked towards Orihime, my footsteps the only sound in the hall. Her eyes were fearful; perhaps she thought I would retaliate for her earlier attempt at escape. Nonsense.

"Are you scared?" I asked her. She made a noise of surprise – she had not expected this. "Aizen has declared you useless. Nobody will protect you. You will die here, alone, untouched. Are you scared?" she looked me in the eyes.

"No," she replied. We were close now, as close as before she had kissed me. I looked at her – I was only a little taller than she, I still noticed this. She hardly even needed to move. "They came to save me, so… My heart is already with them." I frowned at this, and she saw it and looked away.

"Your heart?" I replied. "You place such value on this heart of yours. What advantage does it truly give you?" She looked back, defiant, raging and beautiful.

"It lets me love them," she told me, her voice soft but firm.

"I have no heart," I told her. "I have not had a heart since the Soul Reapers failed me and the Hollows consumed me, years ago. Yet I can still love." She choked back a noise of surprise, I saw in her face how much she wanted to make it, but she was afraid, so afraid of being wrong.

"My heart lets me feel," she continued. "It lets me cry for them, and care for them, and risk everything for them, as they do for me. Our hearts bind us together. Our hearts define us."

"That is nonsense," I replied dismissively. "You do not need a heart to feel such things." I looked at her. "You cannot know the pain, the hunger, the gaping despair that grips a soul who has lost his heart." She did not look away this time. "You cannot know how truly alone you feel when you lose your heart." I turned away and began to pace hands in my pockets as always. "How the self-loathing eats you until you have to lash out at everything around you just to try and feel something again." I paused and looked over at her. She was still watching. "You cannot know how much it hurts to be condemned, hunted and hated just because you do not have a heart," I finished. She walked up to me and placed her hand over my Hollow Hole – a great taboo indeed, but I did not have the will to strike her hand away.

"This is the reason… You did everything you did?" She asked, looking up at me. I nodded.

"I hated the Soul Reapers," I informed her, "because they did not save me. No Hollow is a Hollow because they want it, save for the most evil of us all. It was Arrancar or death. I cannot ask you which you would choose, because you cannot know the pain, and you never will." She looked up at me with those eyes again, those eyes that had held, captured, healed and broken.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. This time, it was simply a sincere display of feeling. She did not intend to hurt. I watched in surprise as she put her arms around me. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly. "You are right… I do not know the pain. And I know… That you can love." She stepped away, and I turned to look at the entrance to the palace.

"He is coming," I murmured. "Ichigo is coming." She seemed frightened by this. "And one of us will die."

"No!" She exclaimed. "Please, Ulquiorra!" I turned to look at her, at the fear on her face. "Please… If you win… Please, don't kill him." She had her hands clasped together, begging. "And… If he wins… Please, don't die," she added, in barely a whisper. I made a slight noise.

"I can promise nothing," I replied.

* * *

The wall exploded with a crash, and I turned. He was here. Ichigo had come. Orihime lingered by me, afraid now, but I turned to face him. I would prove to him that he was not worthy of her.

"Get away from Orihime," he growled. I took a step forward.

"I intend to," he replied. "I have received no orders regarding her. I do not need to kill her, so I will not." My hand closed around the hilt of my sword. "But you are different," I told him. "I am to guard this place. Defeating you is protecting Las Noches. So I shall eradicate you." I slid the sword from its sheath, aiming the blade at his _heart_. "With my sword," I finished. I heard Orihime's noise of surprise and worry, but Ichigo just laughed.

"You actually drew your sword!" He remarked. "I thought I'd have to force you." He took up a fighting stance. "Does that mean… You see me as a worthy opponent now?" I attempted to gauge his reiatsu, not that it mattered now. I was doing what I had long ridiculed the others for – I was fighting because of raw emotion.

"You are an obstacle," I corrected him. "Who must be removed." He smirked.

"Good enough for me," he replied with a shrug.

When our swords met, the energy shook Las Noches to its core.

* * *

My face remained impassive, but I fought with the strength of my rage behind me. I hit, I kicked, I slashed, blocked, stabbed. I sliced his _Getsuga Tensho_ in half and ignored the impact and his surprise at the destruction around me. I used _sonido_ and struck. He blocked. So we traded blows, his face becoming more determined and desperate, my own mask cracking. I fired a _cero_ along my sword that cut a wide hole through the side of the building. He withstood it and seemed unharmed.

"Oh," I remarked. "You have got stronger." He met my gaze angrily. "Is it because you defeated Grimmjow?" I glanced back at Orihime, watching with the worry she would normally show for two friends trading blows, rather than her friend fighting to destroy her enemy. "Is it because of her?" He glared. "Or is it because of your friends, who fight below?" I glanced back at Orihime, who was begging me with her eyes, _please don't die, please don't kill him_. "She is ours," I informed him. "Just because she is whole on the outside doesn't mean she is whole within." It was goading, and it was lies. I wanted him to fight me with all his rage. I wanted to feel his blade bite my flesh – I wanted him to prove to me that he was worthy. "Rescuing her is meaningless." He spat.

"That's not your choice," he growled. I sighed.

"Correct," I responded. "It is Lord Aizen's."

We traded blow after blow, and she watched, torn yet stoic. He grabbed my wrist – a flicker of shock showed in my face, and he swung his sword down, forced me backwards and made me bleed. It was nothing, but still, he had cut me. I looked at the blood on my hand impassively.

"Heh," he remarked. "Hierro. You're skin's pretty tough. But I can read you better now." I may have seemed mildly confused.

"What do you mean?" I asked. He laughed softly.

"Before, you were a mystery," he replied. "Your speed, your movements, your offense and defence… All of it. It was like fighting stone, a machine." He looked up. "But now I can see you. Dunno if it's because I'm more a Hollow or you're more human, but…" I nodded once, understanding on my face.

"I have… Become more human," I repeated. "I see." My eyes flicked back to Orihime, and I slammed my sword down, the energy shattering the floor. It was not intended to damage. I used the energy to lift myself into the air, and hung there. "It must be an achievement for you," I continued. "To be able to follow me… Even if it is only at my lowest level." I read uncertainty and fear in his eyes as I moved towards him.

I became the lightning. I moved as a blur, my sword striking wherever it could reach, again and again. My eyes and his eyes, we watched each other, until once, he did not move fast enough, I brought my sword down-

I heard her shout the words and the energy in my sword was wasted shattering her shield. I made a slight noise and returned to standing upon the ground, not attacking now. My eyes went to hers. She was determined but afraid, wilful and proud, but caring. She did not want him to die. She did not want me to die. But in that moment, I saw which of us she would sacrifice first, and it was me.

_Anger _exploded inside of me. Still him! After everything I had done! Everything I had suffered for her! All I had told her! What I had become, how she had changed me, and she _still picked him_!

"…What are you doing?" I asked her, willing my voice to remain calm, willing myself to be the impassive shell. She seemed surprised by the question, so I rephrased it. "I'm asking why you helped him," I told her. She looked away.

"Because…" She mumbled.

"Because he's your friend?" I finished. "So why did you not guard him from the first blow? Why make your choice now?" She looked up in shock, her eyes saying _no, I did not mean that, please…_

"Ulquiorra…" She murmured. _Anger_ was raised in me once more.

"I'll tell you why-" I started.

"Shut up," Ichigo cut in. I blinked, surprised by this. "Hesitation, whatever. It doesn't mean anything." He looked at Orihime. "It's dangerous, so… Stay back, ok?" He told her softly. My gaze hardened.

"I would not hurt her," I told him, my voice was dangerous and low, and he looked at me in surprise.

"You're pretty chatty," he remarked. "I thought you were the silent type, you know? But you just keep talking." Blackness started to gather around his blade. "But no matter what you say… I'm not going to trust the words of some Arrancar."

I became _anger hate rage loathing_ all at once. Judged for what I was. Again. There was no escape. I was 'the Hollow', 'the Arrancar', the heartless one who did not deserve to live.

"Getsuga?" I muttered. "Haven't you realised yet that it doesn't work on me?" He hit me with the energy in the blade. I deflected it. We exchanged meaningless words – pointless posturing of two desperate men who no longer knew why they were fighting, which of the many reasons they had was the one they held in their hand, that cut in their blade. For me it was so many things. He had Orihime. She had hurt me. He had judged me. Old revenge. New revenge. The need to protect this place. Everything.

For him there were just as many. To rescue her. To prove himself. To help his friends. To end the war. A world was resting on both of our shoulders. A principal, an ideal was upheld in the swing of our swords. A feeling, some sort of raw emotion was carved out with the arc of our swing. I remained impassive through sheer strength of will. He showed his will and determination on his face instead. And Orihime, quietly worrying for the both of us, stood well back and prayed.

I only lost my focus when I heard her muffled yelp, but thankfully Ichigo was also distracted, much more vocally than I.

"Orihime!" He yelled out, distraught. I thought things through in my head quickly. The two would come; I had known that since Aizen had told me she was useless. Yammy would come to help, I knew that also – he was always attached to me for some foolish reason or another. The only thing I needed to do was make sure Yammy didn't kill her – but I could feel the Quincy's reiatsu moving. Would it come together like I had planned? I hoped so. I did not want to have to break my show in front of Ichigo to save Orihime from one of my own.

He flew at them, but I moved quicker, blocking his path. He would fight me. He would go through me before he reached her. I had told him this.

"Ulquiorra!" One of the two cried out, grateful. I spat.

"Don't get the wrong idea," I told them, looking over my shoulder. "I'm not helping you. I have no desire to see her hurt." I blocked his sword swing without looking. "I am simply reminding Ichigo of the rules." He growled.

"Get out of the way," he hissed. I met his gaze.

"Make me," I responded. "If you wish to get to her, you must kill me first. That was what I told you before, was it not?" The noise of rage he made was animalistic, hollow-like.

"Shut up! Get out of my way!" He screamed.

Thankfully, at that point Yammy crashed through onto our little battlefield.

"Ulquiorra!" He exclaimed. "I'm here to help." I made a slight noise of disapproval.

"And when did I ever say I needed your help, Yammy?" I responded dismissively. If four could not handle a threat, ten would be no use.

"He's got stronger!" Yammy protested. "Let me-"

"So you're fully healed," I cut him off. "This isn't your job. Deal with the captains down below."

"Ulquiorra!" He protested angrily, but I waved a hand and he shut up.

"That is your weakness," I told him. "You get too angry."

The girls distracted him as I had hoped before he could move in on Ichigo, and he proceeded to deal with the two Arrancar girls the way I had planned to before Grimmjow imprisoned me. Orihime had hardly been hurt – her clothes were ripped and torn, but her skin was whole. Ichigo was still stupidly determined to simply bypass me and get to her, but I refused. The Quincy saved me from having to rid myself of Yammy, which was another bonus.

"Take care of Orihime," Ichigo told the Quincy, turning back to face me. "If her Shun Shun Rikka can't shield her, protect her with your body."

"I always would," he replied, running over to her, she looking over at both of us with fear on her face.

"You would really be that careless?" I remarked to Ichigo. "You truly are pathetic." He laughed.

"Sorry about that," he replied, raising a hand to his face. "Now it gets serious." His reiatsu exploded and morphed as he donned the mask, and I watched impassively. He charged me, and I blocked, but I saw the cracks appear in my Zanpaku-to and jumped backwards just in time to avoid bearing the full brunt of a Getsuga. It would not have inconvenienced me much, but the less damage I took, the better. Besides, I did not know the full capabilities of this form. I had to watch now, to test. I had to bark until he tried to bite with his full force, and only then would I strike.

We flew out of the side of the building, and I fired a _cero_ in his direction. Judging by the sheer strength he was emanating, it would have nowhere near the destructive effects it had the last time I fought him, but mild surprise still showed on my face when a swirl of his sword deflected it.

So. Now we were fighting on the level. That meant I would have to take more drastic measures to ensure my victory.

With a swift jump and the aid of _sonido,_ I raced past him. He swore at me and tried to follow, and I crashed through the top of the palace to land on the top of the dome.

"Is… Is this…?" He murmured once he caught up with me. I brushed the debris of the roof from my shoulders absently.

"Above the dome of Las Noches," I confirmed. "Espadas of level four and above may not release their true power within the dome." Plus, if it reached the point where I would have to bring out my second stage, I wasn't certain the dome itself could take it, and I wanted Orihime to be somewhere safe. Unlike him, I would not throw energy around where it could hurt her. I held my sword out in front of me. "Both this and a full-power _cero_ from an Espada would destroy Las Noches." His eyes showed a little of the fear he should have always held for me now, and I met his eyes levelly. His eyes, too, showed his soul, but he would not startle me immobile. Never. He would never reach me. "Bind! Murciélago!" My power exploded outwards, a black light so bright, so dark, that he had to shield his eyes. The excess energy fell from me like pure, black rain. My wings spread. My mask part-reformed over my hair. Every fibre of my being cried out for the Soul Reaper's blood, the Soul Reaper who wished to bridge the gap as we had done. The Soul Reaper who had stolen her faith just by being born as what he was.

I would show him the difference between us both.

His fear was palpable. That was ridiculous; this battle would still be hard-won even in this state.

"Don't tremble," I suggested. "Don't break your stance. Remain aware. Do not let your guard down, not even for a second." Lance in hand, I jumped from the dome, moving like lightning. "Or I will kill you." White lightning exploded against energy as dark as night, and against the backdrop of blood I landed, some distance away. "Reflexive Getsuga," I remarked. "A prudent decision." His mask had half-shattered, but he was still upright, if on his knees. "If not, your head would be at my feet right now." Of course, I had expected such a reaction since I had seen him use his mask on instinct to defend against my _cero_ – still my promise to Orihime was remembered. His fear was black and dark, like despair, like night. Perhaps now he was at last beginning to feel the crushing weight of how it felt to be Hollow, a despair he could not possibly know, even by putting on that mask. The weight of losing your heart. The numbness, the fear, the crushing sense of despair and loneliness. Hollows could never be complete once they had lost their heart. Hollows could not hold a friend's love in their heart and not even see it. Hollows could not walk away from their friend in good conscience because they knew, in their heart, that they would still be waiting when they returned. A Hollow could not cry when they said goodbye to the one they loved. "You have got stronger," I commended him. "But I could still shatter your mask." My lance began to glow like starlight. "A shame." He jumped backwards, twisted to evade, rebuilt his shattered mask, and met my lance with his sword in desperation. "Use Getsuga," I goaded him. "It's your strongest attack. Use it, so I can show you the difference between us!" I _would_ win. I would prove that you did not need a heart to be worthy of love.

He laughed and raised his sword.

"Trust me… I was planning on it!" He yelled; the darkness gathering about his blade. He flung it at me, and with a wing I blocked it. It sheered off around me and exploded at my back.

"So, I was right," I murmured. "It is like my _cero_." He was more a Hollow than he thought he was – than Orihime thought he was.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't compare me to you," he spat. I sighed. So foolish.

"Then I shall demonstrate, instead," I offered. "_Cero obscura._" The black light shone from my fingers. I had calculated that it would likely shatter his mask, and perhaps floor him if he was off-guard, but it would not finish him.

…No, he ended up on the floor, bloody and broken like a rag doll. How disappointing. I had not expected to do so much damage to him… He was weaker than I had thought, _weaker_! I flew over and threw him into the wall, disappointed, frustrated and angry.

"Do you see?" I demanded of him. "The difference between us is like night and day. You can never know what it truly means to be a Hollow." I flew through the hole in the wall I had created, meaning to take him back into the dome now he had fallen, but instead he struggled to his knees, sword held in both hands, and started to use _Getsuga_. _Anger hate rage pain_ flared up in me, and my eyes became _anger_.

"I'm telling you, it's useless!" I exclaimed, hacking him down with my sword. Still survivable. Why did he not surrender? Why could he not see that I was so much more than he was? Why did he not understand that to continue fighting would mean he lost his life? Did Orihime mean that little to him?

I followed his trajectory and slashed him again, forcing him upwards. I caught him before he hit the wall. "Do you not see?" I demanded. "Can you even now not see the difference in our strength? Why do you not surrender?"

"What about the difference?" He asked, panting. "Should I give up just 'cause I've got proof? I always knew you were better than me." His eyes, still defiant despite his ruined state, met mine. "I don't care what I see now," he continued. "Nothing will change my mind. I will defeat you… Ulquiorra!" I dropped him, disgusted. He truly did not know. He imitated us and thought that he knew.

"Those are the words of someone who has not felt true despair," I informed him bluntly. "You have no idea of the true, crushing weight of it, of fear and terror and pain." I flew up – I did not want to kill him now, when there was no need. "So I shall show it to you, Ichigo Kurosaki." His eyes went wide as my energy folded around me and exploded outwards, reverting me back to my almost-Hollow state – _resurrección segunda etapa_. For the most fleeting of seconds, I saw true fear in his eyes. I stood in the moonlight, a beast I had not been for years, a secret I had never shown to anyone, something primal, something so powerful he did not have a hope. Horns sprouted from my head, my hands and feet became claws, I regained my tail. All to convince him to surrender. All for Orihime. I alighted before him. I saw despair.

"_Resurrección segunda etapa,_" I informed him. "I am the only Espada capable of reaching this level. Not even Aizen has seen me like this." Never reveal your ace. That was the key when you were around people who would kill you over petty things. In part, it was the reason we were losing, I believed. But then, at that moment I believed in a lot of things that simply weren't true.

He stood! He attempted to push himself to his feet, Zanpaku-to in hand. I nearly killed him on the spot for such stupidity. Why did he not back down? Why did he not understand that I was the better of the two of us? I could not fathom it. I could not understand. "You still mean to fight?" I asked. "Even after seeing me like this?" I looked at him. He felt the fear. He sensed the despair. But in his eyes there was a deep resolve, a desire, a _need_ to keep going, to stay alive, no matter what. Was this what it meant, to have a heart? To never give in, to never, ever turn your back, even if all that remains is death? Something inside me understood, then, his reasons, Orihime's reasons, everything that had confused me and left me powerless before. _This_ was what it meant to be human. _This_ was what it meant, to care for someone so deeply you would never give up your life until you were a cold, broken corpse.

Could I feel that? Never had I been reduced to so little that I was faced with his decisions. Would I be able to pick myself up once more and fight, for someone else, even if doing so would mean my death? Could I throw my life away, just for her, for my _heart_?

For the first time since I had become a Hollow, the _anger_, the _hatred,_ the _loathing _died. It vanished. I no longer had any need for it, it was false, it was a pathetic thing to feel, and I found myself wondering that I had ever felt it in the first place. How foolish. How pathetic. What a fool I had been, what _trash_. All that was left was the maelstrom she had brought into being in me. I would finish this with him alive, but I would show him how I had felt, first.

For it was not about the difference in our strength, I saw that now. If all it had been was that, I would have been the victor from the beginning. What it was about was how much I would fight for her. What I would give up for those I counted as my friends.

It was about who I was.

"I shall make you understand," I told him. "As you have made me understand." His confusion, his fear, his resolve and determination hit me as I flew at him. This would be the end.

I clawed him into the air, I threw him against the pillar, I lashed at him with my tail, everything. He somehow summoned up the strength to put on his Hollow mask. "You still fight like you can win," I remarked. "Admirable. Foolish, but admirable, in the face of true fear." I threw him so hard he tore through buildings. "Is it because of your heart, that you fight? That you still think you can win?" He summoned up the strength for a laugh.

"I don't fight because I _think_ I can win," he told me. "I fight because I _have_ to win! For Orihime! For everyone!" Now, it was my turn to laugh.

"Nonsense," I replied simply. I ripped his sword from his hand and wrapped my tail around his throat, holding and pinning him against the pillar. "For Orihime? Why for her?"

"To protect her from you," he growled. I was not pressing hard enough to hurt him, to strangle.

"How pitiful," I remarked. "You truly do not see, do you? I would _never_ hurt Orihime. Ever. All I was doing was guarding Las Noches. Had you not made yourself a threat, this would not have had to happen. Had you surrendered when I defeated you, I would have let you _go_, so long as you removed yourself from this place." His look told me he thought I lied.

"You're a Hollow," he growled. "You're an Espada. You don't care about anyone. If you did, you wouldn't have brought her to this place!" Angrily, I raised my hand.

"Who are you to judge me?" I demanded. "Who are you to say you _know_, in your _heart_, that I feel none of this? Who are you to say that I do not feel pain, like shards of broken glass, when she turns to you instead? Who are you to demean me to the level of monster? _What is the difference between me and you, Kurosaki, that makes you better than me to her?!_" his eyes widened as he too saw the truth, and finally, not through any sight, or loss, or vision, but instead through my words, felt true despair. He felt my despair, the despair of a Hollow, condemned and hunted and destroyed simply for _being_. The despair of someone who felt things they could not understand, and was broken because of it, without any of them even realising it. The despair of someone who did not wish to kill but had to kill. The despair I felt, every day, simply for being, and not being anything other than what I was.

"ICHIGO!" Orihime cried, a truly terrified cry ripping from her throat. I turned, surprised. She had come up on the dome?

"So you've come," I remarked. "Good. You can witness the moment where the man you have placed your hopes in is defeated. The moment he loses his life as a human." He knew it to be true, too. He had felt my despair, now. He knew what it was to truly be _Hollow_. Now, he would forever be something more than human.

The final blow was not meant to be a killing blow, but still she screamed at me to stop, and his eyes widened as I almost lost the battle to _anger_ returned. Still she chose him. "The victory is mine, Ichigo Kurosaki," I told him. "Accept this loss, be healed, and leave this place." I looked away. "Take her away, that I may suffer my own punishment alone." I unwrapped my tail from his neck and he fell – I had calculated wrong, he fell from the dome. Orihime screamed – true despair – and caught him with her shield, and I stopped her from foolishly flinging herself from the top of the dome. "Think," I told her. "That way, you cannot-" I started, but the Quincy unleashed an attack on me and I had to shield with my wings. I looked up at him. "I'm shocked," I remarked. "I thought you were the calm one."

"I am calm," he growled. "That's why I can kill you." I looked at him levelly.

"A Quincy," I remarked. "The self-proclaimed _righteous_ destroyer of Hollows." I cast my eyes around – Orihime had actually made the jump. The Quincy saw this, too, and flung himself at me. I cut back on instinct and severed one of his hands, flinging him from the pillar. I sighed. So emotional, they were. It was a weakness, like Yammy's quickness to anger, like Grimmjow's arrogance, like Nnoitra's bloodlust.

What was my weakness?

* * *

I jumped down after them, and the Quincy charged. Orihime was beginning to heal him already, but pain and shock and uncertainty were written on her face as I beat him back again, this time being careful not to cut him. Still, there was blood, and she screamed in confusion, no longer knowing what she wanted.

That was the fatal mistake.

Through the energy and my wound and her desperation, _despair_ and _resolve_ combined in him. The healing shield shattered as he roared out defiance to the night sky. He stood, a creature now, an animal, the true Hollow that so many had hunted. What galled me was that I knew, no matter what happened, if it came to a choice between myself, a fully sentient, highly evolved Espada, and the creature Ichigo had become, it would still be me they killed first.

"…Ichigo…?" The Quincy murmured, not willing to believe.

"Shield him!" I screamed at Orihime, charging at the Hollow as as Zanpaku-to materialised in his hand. The explosion from his first strike sent Orihime flying into Uryu, and she took my advice and called up her shield. "What are you?" I demanded of him. It was impossible to tell. He did not have the double-mouth of a full hollow, but there was no way he possessed the intelligence of a Vasto Lorde if he used attacks that hurt his friends. A changed creature of Gillian level, perhaps?

He roared, like a cross between despair and anger. Oh, how I knew that sound. The hole, which Orihime had begun to heal, was a full hollow-hole, but the roar confirmed the lack of the double-mouth that allowed Hollows to consume souls. How strange. Perhaps this was what Lord Aizen had been searching for. The perfect cross between Soul Reaper and Arrancar.

If it was, the intelligence factor needed some work.

"I see," I remarked. "Words are useless." I shot a glance back at the other two. "Very well, Kurosaki. I shall restrain you once more. This cannot continue." He charged a _cero_ between his horns, and my eyes widened at the power of it. I barely had time to cast a counter-_cero obscura_, and even then I had to use my wings and my hands to shield myself from the power of it. I prayed that Orihime and the Quincy were out of the blast range. Now was not the time for heroics. No longer was I the superior one. No longer did I have the opportunity to gauge his power. I had to use all I had, or I and the others were all dead.

He _shunpo_ed behind me… No, I did not feel it, it was _sonido_… and tore my arm clean off. Never had I felt such pain before, and my eyes widened in shock. Power whirled around this new Hollow-Ichigo, and we stood facing each other, I bleeding and head bowed in pain, he tall and animalistic.

I sighed. This was ridiculous. There was no possible way someone could go from being half-dead to having such overwhelming power, it was nonsensical. I held out the stump of my arm and regenerated it, although the pain remained, grew, even. Hollow-Ichigo showed what could be described as consternation.

"If you stop and stare because I lost an arm, you will lose," I told him frankly. "I can regenerate much faster than any other Arrancar – save for my brain and internal organs." I held my hands together and charged my attack, _Lanza del relampago._ Lance of the lightning. My eyes went from Hollow-Ichigo to Orihime and the Quincy – I wasn't sure if it would pierce her shield, as the only time I had ever used this was in my dimensional prison, and the strength of those walls was far stronger than her shield. "Stay back," I told him. "I'd rather not throw this when we're too close." I launched it at him. To his credit – or possibly, due to his lack of intelligence – he remained perfectly still, but I still missed. The explosion was enough to destroy a part of the desert where it landed, and I frowned. "Not as accurate as I had thought…" I muttered, charging another one. I heard the Quincy remark on that in surprise – what did they expect? That I was some run-of-the-mill Arrancar who put all their energy into one last-ditch attack, like a bee would? Hardly.

I did not have a chance to throw it again – he used his new speed and slipped straight through my defences – _sonido_, without a doubt – and threw my own arm at me. How humiliating. Still, I did not hesitate. Orihime's life was in my hands now, and that of the Quincy's, although his mattered less to me. I knew that she would sacrifice me first, and I accepted that now. I would fight until either Ichigo returned to his senses, or I was dead – or both. She had to survive.

"Don't underestimate me," I told him, and slammed the lance into him. Close-range, I would take a lot of the damage, but…

He stopped it with one hand. A single hand. I couldn't believe it. All that power, and he stopped it with one hand. I was nothing. I was worthless. I was so small in the fact of his power. I was so numb I barely felt the pain as his sword cut down me and I lost a horn, although on my face, my surprise was written. I fell to the floor. I had failed them. I had failed myself. I had failed Aizen. I had nothing left. I was… _Hollow_. "To think… I was beaten by some human-turned-hollow…" I murmured, almost to myself. "How… Ridiculous…" Part of me wanted to hear Orihime scream stop, the way she had when I had finished Ichigo, but in my heart I knew she wouldn't-

In my heart? I had no heart…

His foot crashed down onto the side of my head. Pain blossomed in me.

"No mercy, eh?" I remarked. "How very… Hollow-like." The Quincy made a noise of shock. I did not hear Orihime. He charged a _cero_.

* * *

I have heard it said, once, that when you are about to die your life flashes before your eyes. I know this to be foolish – not only can you never remember all of your life in detail, but it would be such a waste of your last moments to relive every bad moment along with the good. No, what happens is that you see every part of your life that has ever been important to you, as I have done. Being condemned, and what it led to. And Orihime. Always, always Orihime. For her, I would do anything. I would fight this beast; I would leave Aizen, anything. For her, I would give my everything, my life.

"…Do it," I tell him. "For now you have defeated me, I have nothing left to live for." I had lost. I had fought for her, and I had lost. Even winning my first battle would never win me her heart. I cannot describe the despair at that feeling. It is more crushing than now – watching my death forming in front of my eyes. It is that pit-black feeling of knowing, deep inside yourself, that no matter whether you see the light again or not, it would mean nothing.

He releases the _cero_, and all I can think now is _please, please, let Orihime stay safe_.

Because for her, I give my life now.

* * *

Consciousness. A flicker of light. The dull pain of an impact that means nothing in the face of the previous pain, the true pain. I am alive. I keep my eyes closed, and although I hear, I do not see. Perhaps things I do not see can also be true. Perhaps everything I knew is wrong. Orihime. What has happened to Orihime? He has turned on the Quincy. The blade was inches from my neck, now it is not. Orihime screams his name – she did not scream mine. Again, despair crushes me, more so that before. Let the blade have gone through my neck! Let him destroy me and spit on my cold, Hollow corpse! I am nothing any longer, I mean nothing.

If he will turn on the Quincy, will he turn on her? I open my eyes – he is heading for the Quincy now, and Orihime's eyes are fearful and terrified. She has realised that it was her despair that changed him. This hurts her – he will kill anything except her, he is not human any more.

He charges a _cero_ – is he seriously going to use that on the Quincy? Ridiculous. I struggle; I use all that I can muster of my energy to regenerate enough to move and form my lance in my hand once more. No. I will not let this happen, so help me. If I must die to save them, I will. With my only remaining hand I push myself into the air, with my only remaining wing I desperately move towards him. Parts of me are still reforming, but I will likely not live long enough to be whole, as it were, again. With my lance, I slash down, aiming to remove a horn, to disrupt his ability to fire _cero_ and perhaps his reiatsu, at least return him to his senses, oh please, don't let them hurt for my mistakes…

An explosion. I am already falling to the side, but my vision is white and it burns. With fading sight, I see her, worry on her face, and such a deep sadness…

"Please," she whispers. "Oh, Ulquiorra, please don't die…"

I do not feel myself hit the ground. I am whole again. I am complete. Life or death, it means nothing.

She has begged for my life.

She cares.

My vision goes black.

* * *

A/N - Thoughts and comments appreciated.


End file.
